The Man From DREAMLAND
by gerlorie
Summary: Bob Peterson has accepted a post as a CIA agent. He wishes that the world's problems could be solved as easily as they were in the 1960's TV spyspoof sitcoms. He dreams about The Man From U.N.C.L.E.This story is totally fictitious and claims no rights t
1. Chapter 1

The Man from Dreamland

51-year-old Bob Peterson absolutely could not fall asleep. He was questioning whether or not his choice to accept the post of Defense Secretary of Homeland Security was a beyond his capabilities. Bomb were going off here, and there; terrorist warnings were being picked up by the NSA, and he just could not handle the enormous task of juggling all of these threats to the country.

"Why can't the world be like it was on TV in the '60's? There were nuclear threats from fictitious countries, but always, agents from some organization, were able to not only discover their hideouts, but disable their power." He laughed to himself, "Goof grief I remember _'Get Smart'_ and '_The Man from U.N.C.L.E.' Those_ heroes managed to solve the mysteries or defuse the crimes in one hour, or 45 minutes, minus the commercials. Ahh, those were the days! If only we lived in a time and world like that."

Finally, much needed sleep overcame Bob's restless brain and body. His wife was cuddled next to him, the covers were just the right temperature, and, for at least 5 hours, he would be allowed the luxury of sleep. He used to take that for granite before he joined the political arena. He wondered if perhaps he was better off not knowing what was really out there threatening the world. At times, he wished that he was, of this knowledge, ignorant.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

He slowly fell into the Theta stage of dreaming, when his favorite past TV shows started to enter into his subconscious thoughts. Flashes of being a teenager and commanding use of the TV to watch '_The Man from U.N.C.L.E.'_ or '_Get SMART'_ ran through his brain. Then reality crept in and out and intertwined between the two TV shows.

His wife was awakened by laughter coming from her spouse. She was glad that _he_ could sleep; now wondered how she could get back to her dreams. Luckily all was quiet in the Peterson bedroom within 5 minutes.

However, Bob's brain was not quiet. A fantasy was unraveling far to clear to believe. He could see himself standing in the factious U.N.C.L.E. office of Mr. Waverly. Before him stood the notorious Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin. He was only watching them. They could not hear him speak or even see him. Strangely enough, they were discussing the latest terror threat, which appeared to be one, which had just been discovered.

"We've got to stop this Thrush-like cell group from Carnada! They pose a terrible threat to the government!" Mr. Waverly commanded with that authorative look to his best agents, Solo and Kurikan. Strangely, they were both sipping from Starbucks cups while they listened to him rattle off orders.

"OK, OK, sir, we'll get it under control as soon as we can!" Napoleon spoke in a reassuring manner. As he took a sip from his Café Latte' a bit of foam was left on his upper lip.

His cohort, Illya, replied, "I assume that we'll be working together, as usual." Illya motioned to Napoleon that he had foam on his upper lip. Napoleon, wiped it off with an embarrassing motion, as if his ego had been threatened.

Illya glanced first at Mr. Waverly, and then at Napoleon and asked, "You have a problem with that Napoleon?" He spoke with his heavy Russian accent and gave him a friendly yet annoying stare. Mr. Waverly looked at the two men, hoping that their useful, but competitive relationship would not threaten the outcome of the latest assignment. They had proven to be a most effective team. The two men had discovered dealt with many plots in a matter of weeks, and terrorist cells disappeared as quickly as they had emerged.

Napoleon sighed, resigned to reveal a haughty and condescending tone. "I suppose that we can handle it." He glanced at his partner to reveal his superiority feelings towards him.

Illya looked down at the floor, and acted as though an answer could possibly disturb his busy schedule. He then looked up, first at Napoleon, and then at his boss Mr. Waverly, and spoke with his Russian, haughtiness, "I suppose that I can pull another job off, if _he_," looking at Napoleon, "will oblige me."

"What do you mean '_oblige you?'"_ Napoleon stared superciliously at him.

Illya examined himself in a reflection of a picture above Mr. Waverly's desk, and straightened out a stray blond hair "for once, I would like to have the pleasure of having a woman in my bed!"

Bob, invisible to the three men, opened his mouth in utter astonishment. He thought to himself, "they allowed _that_ to be mentioned those days?"

Napoleon smiled at his sexually deprived partner. It seemed odd to him that Illya never managed to successfully hit on a woman on their missions. He had that accent which women loved, and yet, he was always sadly ignored. Napoleon figured that he'd give his pal a break; or at least pretend to do so. "My friend, I shall not stand in your way. If I see an arousing look on a woman, I shall direct her toward you; _if that's possible"_ he said under his breath.

Bob laughed at the two men who always competed for women.

Mr. Waverly shook his head at their silliness, and gave the men the details on the case. Bob listened carefully and asked himself, "How the hell did he know _that_?" Maybe these guys _were _smarter than our current agents. Well, it didn't take much for them to be more intelligent, Bob thought annoyingly.

As the two agents left the office, Bob heard Mr. Waverly call out to them, "Remember those pencil communicators are no longer safe. You've got to stop using them. Even Horizon calls are being monitored. You'll be better off with a land line."

Napoleon stomped back into Mr. Waverly's office. "Don't you think we know that already?" he retorted sarcastically. We threw those pieces of crap away ten years ago!"

"Oh, I, well, wasn't aware that you boys knew that." Waverly sheepishly responded. The door slammed shut.

The door opened again, "And don't call us 'boys' for God's sakes!" Napoleon replied annoyingly.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Bob watched how the men worked. They gathered information from tools, which were common today. They had a secret, sound proof area in the U.N.C.L.E building. Within minutes, a plan was created, and they seemed quite confident that this THRUSH-like cell would be eliminated.

"Wow," Bob thought in his dream, why can't we do that so quickly these days. Well, let's see if they really can get the job done. He followed them as closely as possible.

Before he knew it, Napoleon had gotten on one plane, and Illya had embarked upon another. "Shoot, what am I going to do now; I can't follow both of them!" A dream is unrealistic, so Bob suddenly found himself watching the two men simultaneously at their jobs.

The both arrived in an area of Carnada, which was not familiar to Bob, at least not in the dream. They knew exactly where the THRUSH-cell headquarters were, and simultaneously burst in with guns firing, ducking grenades, and succeeding with hand-to-hand combat. In 15 minutes, all of the THRUSH agents lay either dead or severely injured. He saw Napoleon and Illya return successful glances.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A woman from another area of the building approached with a fearful look upon her face. It appeared that she knew these men were the enemies and that she would either be killed, or captured. She fainted. Napoleon started to rush over to her.

"Now, wait a minute! She's mine, remember?" Illya informed the wild eyed and dreamy looking Napoleon. He followed the orders and stopped in his tracks.

"Shoot! I forgot! OK, go get her, Illya. I'll hang out in this corner." He saw his partner rush over to the helpless woman. Illya gently patted her face to awaken her. Bob heard her moan, and ask where she was. Then, startled, she asked, "you're not one of those U.N.C.L.E. agents, are you?"

"Yes, I am, my dear, an you are my prisoner!" Illya responded in an authoritative yet sexy voice, which would melt butter. "However, we always make deals with women in exchange for favors, if you know what I mean!"

Bob couldn't believe his ears. Here, on TV, in the 60's that sexual innuendo was being spoken! Unreal. This show has really gotten better!" he thought in his dreaming state.

Illya propped her up, and Bob saw how the woman received a most (dreamy, long, and definitely inappropriate for the '60's) kiss. He heard her moan in response. Illya was definitely going to score with this woman, even if she was an enemy. Then, Bob saw her pull out a knife from her waist. Bob tried to warn Illya, but realized that he was helpless in defending the unsuspecting Russian agent.

Then Napoleon rushed over to save Illya' s life. He grabbed the knife from the woman and laughed haughtily. "Trying to kill your captor, eh? Sorry, my dear, but not this time!" Napoleon looked at her with a menacing stare, and Bob could also see him size up the woman's body. Bob thought to himself, "I think that Illya is going to loose out again!"

"Oh please, I was just going to hand over my weapon!" the woman pleaded to Napoleon, as she pushed Illya away. Solo was now in control of the lovely attractive prisoner.

"Right, I'm sure that you were; I know that trick." Napoleon gave her a sarcastic yet suggestive glance.

"Oh, you are just too smart for me, sir." The girl pleaded again.

This time, Napoleon grabbed hold of her entire body, and set her on the remnants of a couch. "Well, there's one way that we can get this settled; I think that you know what I mean." Napoleon threatened her with what appeared to be a choice of a sexual encounter versus certain captivity. Without a word, her eyes seemed to scream; "Yes! Yes!"

Napoleon looked around for Illya who was standing there, shaking his head, hands on his hips and a disgusting frown upon his face.

"Thanks again, Napoleon!" He growled.

"Sorry, buddy, but I did save your …." He would have finished his sentence had the girl pulled him onto her and proceeded to tear off his clothes.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Illya looked at the two of them and then out the window; still appearing to be quite angry. He then saw and heard another woman rush in. "What's going on, Sarah?" She screamed.

Sarah waved her hand to shoo away the woman as she and Napoleon were enjoying one another.

"Oh, again, Sarah. You get the guy." Then she saw the blond haired, tall and thin man looking quite threatening at her. "Oh, Please don't hurt me! I just work in the office upstairs and heard the commotion. Please?" The woman pleaded.

Illya approached the frightened woman with his menacing, yet appealing stare. "I think that we can work something out, my dear." He repeated Napoleon's innuendo. He grabbed her about the shoulders and gave her one of those, "not for the '60's" type kiss". Once again, Bob heard the woman moaning in satisfaction.

Illya broke apart and said, well, they've got the couch, so it looks like we'll have only the floor. He pulled the willing girl down to the floor and proceeded to do just as his counter agent was doing.

Chapter 6

Bob awakened suddenly with the words, "WOW!" It was 4:30 AM. He saw his wife cuddled up beside him, and he thought, well, if it worked for both of them, maybe, it'll work for me!"

Bob reported to work later that day with a broad grin on his face. In his hand was a Starbucks Café' Latte.' One of his staff members saw his pleasant and relaxed demeanor; a change from his usual crabby entrance into the office.

"Well, someone got lucky last night!"

Bob took his cup away and wiped his upper lip, making sure that there was no foam. "Well, let's just say that I've got some new ideas to tackle our problem here."


End file.
